


Blind Date

by Frisky_Business



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale is so charming excuse me, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Heard you like shipping, I Tried, M/M, Please excuse Crowley if he's not in character, Self-Indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-14
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2020-05-07 12:38:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19209589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frisky_Business/pseuds/Frisky_Business
Summary: It still eludes you to this day on the reason why anyone would use 'Plenty of Fish'. Heard Tinder was better.(Your friends set you up on a date with the King of darkness himself. Nice.)





	1. Crowley

**Author's Note:**

> Just some indulgent fiction. Planning on writing a few more pieces in the future. I want to date Aziraphale next.

::You have the greatest friends on earth. Definitely a bunch who were above the status quo. At least, that is what they thought of themselves. In fact, you have never wanted to chuck a group of people into a ditch more so than the group of friends you had now. 

Funny lot. Very funny. 

Here you are, the shadiest and most disgruntled looking bar that had the displeasure of being located in the city of lights. For a bar located in a city known for lights, it was dark. I suppose that was the least of your concerns, as you waited patiently for your date to arrive. Perhaps date was too polite of a term for this mysterious gentleman you found yourself waiting for, because you literally had no idea what sort of evening you’d be in for. Apparently your dating life is boring. Or perhaps you didn’t get out enough? Needless to say, your friends decided that tonight you would meet the man of your dreams from a website named ‘Plenty of Fish’, who went under the username of ‘Lordofdarkness’ and stated his name was Crowley. 

Edgy. So edgy you could have cut your hand on it. 

You had stirred your drink for the 14th time, hoping the rum and coke would teleport you to the nearest uber. Yeah, that didn’t happen. Those jerks didn’t even tell you who to look for! Note to self: Get a better set of friends. Someone cleared their throat close by. You paused, your fingers resting cautiously on your straw as if you were going to pull it out like King Arthur’s sword to guard the melting ice in your cup. 

“You [insert name]?” A voice asked, disrupting your thoughts. A man came into vision, sporting a wild, red crew cut and a matching beard. His outfit was slick black, with a tie loosely hanging around his neck like a noose. You were sure his eyes would be lovely, but they were blocked by a pair of pitch black sunglasses, framing his face elegantly. You paused, startled by his presence. He had an air of heat around him, you could almost smell the cinders as he got in front of you. “‘ello? You there, darling?”

“Crowley?” You found yourself asking, expecting the answer to be no.

“Yep the one and only,” his voice was thick with an accent you couldn’t recognize. You reached forward and shook his hand, noting how cold it was. It wasn’t winter. “I ‘supose we’re on a date, eh? Mind if I take this seat?” His hand found the chair right next to you, as he slipped into the seat with an elegant plop. He didn’t even wait for you to respond. He flagged down the waitress and smirked, ordering the most expensive wine on the menu. If you had less manners, you would have asked him to order cheaper. 

“Honestly wasn’t expecting you to show,” you found yourself speaking, gazing uncomfortably at your sweating glass.

“I apologize for being so late, I don’t normally like to keep my dates lonely,” his expression changed from cocky to apologetic in an instant. “Had some business to take care of, ya’ know? Of course, I probably should have sent you a message…”

“Yeah…”

“Listen, how about I make it up to you?” He leaned forward slightly, taking your hand into his own and offering a mischievous smirk. 

“How so?” You asked cautiously, finding your expression undermining the poker face you desperately tried to put on. 

“We do whatever your heart desires, my dear.” He chuckled, his white teeth almost glowing in the candle light of your table. “Tell me your most sinful desires, and I’ll make them into reality.”

“We just met.” You interrupt him, “You’d be lucky if I even told you when my birthday is.”

You felt the table shake from his laughter, something you clearly weren’t expecting from this unusual stranger. 

“You remind me of someone,” he spoke, his voice sounding far more playful than it had previously. “But you are right. I have no reason to believe you are loose with your affection.”

The waitress delivered his drink, gently placing the glass on the table and slowly backing away. You assume she didn’t want to bother you both. You kind of wish she would have stayed…

“You’re cute. I like you.” His blunt response made your cheeks flush. “Normally girls don’t tell me directly to buzz off, but you, I like you.”

“Thank you, I have an affinity for telling attractive men to leave me alone.” You find yourself responding, before you take a long drag off your alcohol to convince yourself to shut up. His laughter was like music. 

“To be frank with you, [insert name], I do this entirely to find someone to sleep with. I’m not looking for anything serious. I tempt people. I make love to people. Then I leave before they have a chance to wake up. I’m good at what I do.”

“Fascinating.”

“So how can I get you in my bed tonight, love?” His tone was serious.

“If looks could kill…” you responded, although you couldn’t see his eyes, you knew they looked hungry. “Not interested. At least you’re honest about it. If that was your intention, why were you using a Christian dating website?”

“Are you suggesting Christians don’t have sex?”

“I’m suggesting that normally they’re prudes who don’t sleep with the first man to swipe right.”

“Fair point,” he spoke, his lips pressing gently on the glass in front of him. “But I think it’s more fun to convince them to sin a bit.” 

“Calm down Adam and Eve,” you find yourself saying, his smirk gets even more mischievous than before. You felt the heat of his skin devour you upon his grasp, his fingers tangling with yours.

“Keep talking dirty to me, darling.” 

Silence dangled in the air like the stomach flu. You were both super aware and wanting to vomit all at the same time. As usual, you drowned your nerves with alcohol. It took a moment for you to notice the familiar pitter patter of rain against the window to your right. Odd, you didn’t see this in the forecast. Of course, when was weather ever recorded accurately? Crowley’s hand never left yours, but you felt his eyes bore into the glass behind you. 

“A kiss in the rain. Have you ever tried that, love?” He mused, lifting your hand to his lips, his kiss causing an immense brain fog.  
“No. I don’t like being wet.” You muttered, as your face became more beat red as you realized what you had said. He looked positively amused. “I meant that… in not that context.” You responded, trying to clear the air.

“Sure.” He spoke, “But let me try to paint the scene for you. If I may.”

“You may.”

“1945, just after the war ended. Your lover was sent off to fight and you had no reason to believe he would come back for you. Eagerly, you await the ship in the harbor, an overcast day. You feel the sweat increasing on your brow. Perhaps some lovely woman in Germany swept him away… Or perhaps it was another sailor on the ship? Regardless, you see the men exiting from the ship…” He lowers his glasses, “And the rain begins to pour.” 

“Why would I be waiting for him if I knew he was never going to come back?” He pressed a single finger to his lips. You hushed instantly.

“You feel yourself begin to cry. You can’t help it. It is just as overpowering as the storm itself. He’s nowhere to be seen. That is, until you feel his presence behind you. A powerful hand reaches around your waist…” He said softly, his arm enveloping you in a strong embrace. “His breath in you ear…” His voice gently tickling the back of your neck. “I’m home, my love.” 

You feel yourself get overwhelmingly faint. He was desperately attractive. 

“His mouth meets yours…” Crowley tilts your head so you make eye contact with him, a piercing look at his yellow eyes. “A kiss is shared upon a deck in the rain.” His lips meet yours. A chaste, but powerful kiss. You feel like you’re being punched in the gut by Satan himself. His lips taste like chicory and a touch of cinnamon. You are in the arms of the master tempter himself. Silence once more meets you as you gaze into his serpent-like eyes. You feel the table vibrate once more, but he’s not laughing. 

It is his phone. 

“You need to excuse me, [insert name]. I must interrupt. Seems cooperate won’t let me have an evening alone with you.” You see him wink, before he pulls himself off of you and puts down an abhorrent amount of money on the table to cover potentially everyone at the bar. “Can I call you?”

“Hell yes.” You respond instantly, without a second thought.

You hear his laughter as he dismisses himself into the pouring rain, and you could have sworn he didn’t have an umbrella when he walked in. But now he did?

Asshole probably stole it. 

A smile crept on your lips as he kept his number, like a secret.::


	2. Aziraphale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherever Crowley goes, Aziraphale is close by...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys I have a problem. Please come rescue me before I write more dumb fan fiction for myself. Should they meet?????

The first blind date was a rousing success, although you would never tell your friends the details of the flirt. Who were you to kiss and tell? But as shocking as it was for his profile to first appear was the fact that his profile suddenly disappeared... Suppose Crowley got bored of that game.

Instead, you got a message from a man named Aziraphale. His profile picture was what appeared to be a cute little kitten on top of a book… Seemed normal enough, you supposed. The only weird aspect about him contacting you was the constant typos. It felt almost like texting your 60 year old mother. You met him at the location he stated, having only seen it once from the outside. It was the fanciest bakery in town, smells pungent in the air. It was strong enough where you assumed that you could see the smell wafting out, like an excited invitation. And who were you to reject such a welcome invitation?

It was about 10 minutes before the meet up time, but you saw a timid man sitting close by with a pocket watch hanging from his left hand who seemed to catch your eye. “Ah, yes, You must be [insert name]. Come now, don’t be shy.” He rose from his seat and guided you to the chair right next to him, slowly pulling it out for you. 

“Aziraphale, correct?” You didn’t need an answer.

“Yes, of course my dear.” He spoke, pushing your chair in once you were seated. “It is a pleasure.” He handed you the menu and smiled, an odd feeling crawled into your chest when you looked at him. There was an aura about him, egging you to embrace him because you wanted to feel the warmth. There was no other way to describe him, save using the term angelic. His white hair glowed under the lights of the shop as his curious blue eyes followed you under his bifocals. You were at a loss, for sure. You felt the same way about Crowley, but this was a whole different angle. It was almost like the scale flipped on its head because this man felt like the complete opposite of Crowley. You were lucky the waitress popped by when she did, allowing the awkward silence to break. 

“Cold brew, no sugar. A touch of milk.” The words sounded odd to you. This was your normal order, but perhaps it was too plain for the articulate gentleman in your presence. 

“Earl grey, with a splash of milk. Could we also get a slice of… Ohh, that sounds delightful. How about the lemon cake? Two forks, okay?” He flashed a charming smile her way, and you could feel the waitress blush from your seat. “Oh I’m sorry my dear, I forgot to ask if you liked lemon. How thoughtless on my part, really.” He spoke as you shook your head.

“I’ve shoved a whole lemon into my mouth before.” You said absentmindedly, before realizing just how stupid that sounded. “I meant to say, I love lemons.” The look on his face was puzzling, but you chose to ignore it. You felt like you were playing a dating simulation, where someone else was picking your answers. 

“[Insert name], tell me about what books you like to read.” He spoke, clearing the silence with such grace. The discussion was strange, but not forced. You felt the way you did when you were a child, sitting in the confession room and relieving your sins to the priest. You wondered if he gave this air off to anyone else. 

When the waitress arrived, you found yourself hungrier than you remembered. Your eyes laid upon the cake in front of you, the fragrant sugar caught you off guard. She handed over two forks and you saw him eyeing you carefully. “Go ahead,” he spoke, his gentle eyes giving you the permission you needed in order to dip your fork into the dessert. The odd sensation of him just watching your lips as you took your first bite… It was attractive. 

The buttercream of the cake melted in your mouth, as the soft accents of the lemon came vividly into your sinuses. It was lovely. Your lips formed a quick smile as you nodded your head in his direction. “How is it, my love?” 

“…Wonderful.” 

He took his fork and put a bite in his mouth. You watched his lips curve into what you would consider a mischievous smile, something you didn’t think this man could muster. He almost looked devious in the same way Crowley did. Not like you would mention a man you dated previously to a man you are meeting now… On a date. But you couldn’t help but feel the two of them knew each other. You wanted to reach out and touch his hand, to get the sensation you felt upon your initial meeting. You did so anyway. When your hand met his, you noticed how he cocked his eyebrow in shock. He didn’t move his hand though, allowing your fingers to lace around his… The sensation was odd; it was both loving and cold… Unlike the encounter with Crowley, who set your spine ablaze. You weren’t nervous around him at all. 

“Excuse me…” He found the words coming from his lips, the fork dropping from his other hand before he released you and left the table. You felt your entire body freeze up as your eyes lingered past the middle of the table where a single, glowing, white feather drifted down into his seat. Your eyes narrowed as you found yourself standing, carefully reaching over and grasping the feather in your thumb and forefinger. It was warm… 

It felt like him. 

You felt the weight of the world hit your shoulders as you realized what you had done. You might have ruined your whole date with this… wonderful man… Because you wanted to feel his hand. You couldn’t resist yourself and there you were, holding a stupid bird feather in a half empty cafe, by yourself. You felt like the whole room was watching you as you made your way back to your seat, tucking the feather safely into your wallet. Your coffee didn’t taste as good as you remembered it had. A few aggravating minutes passed by as you stirred your coffee impatiently, praying he would return. 

“I heard you,” he whispered, his voice in your ear. His arms gently draped around your neck as he spoke directly into your ear. “I apologize, my dear. I’m bad at this… To be honest, dear… I saw that you had a date with Crowley and I wanted to get to you before he could spread his influence on you.” The heat spread to your cheeks as he mentioned the name of the other man… You kept your composure the best you could as you tried desperately to think of a way to respond.

“He kissed me,” you added, not even sure if that detail was essential to your narrative. That seemed to change his expression though. Instead of the calm look he was giving you before, his expression shifted into puzzled once more. 

“Pardon me for being so bold…” Aziraphale carefully tilted your head, his lips meeting yours… Lemongrass and sweet mint lingered on his lips, a mellow feeling rushed over you. He remained there for a few seconds, as if ensuring you got to witness him. He backed down, correcting his posture before bowing his head. “I apologize, I shouldn’t have done that… But having heard your interaction with Crowley I couldn’t…”

“I was the one that started this, I’m sorry Aziraphale. I shouldn’t have…” He pressed a single digit to your lips and smiled. 

“It’ll be our secret, okay love?” 

You nodded your head, as if you had a choice. He rejoined you across the table and you both split the remainder of the cake. And weirdly, your coffee started to taste good again. 

“You are lovely, [insert name]. Shall we meet again?”

“Only if you want…” Your sarcasm abruptly curbed, as to not scare off this man. 

“I do think so.” He excused himself once more, this time going for the exit. You prepared yourself to pay for the tab as the waitress stopped by the table with a box. 

“E-Excuse me… You forgot the tab and this isn’t…” You opened the box and noticed a slice of lemon cake with a small note on the side. 

“Don’t worry dear. Your date covered it.” She winked, her nose wrinkled in amusement over your expression.

It was his number. 

Your heart sank. But cake. Cake is good.


End file.
